[ Matt's eyes close for a moment, savoring Quentin as he presses up into him once more. His small, satiated groans turn into little murmurs of pleasure at Quentin's praise. Matt's spine curves, pushing his hips down and his chest forward into Quentin's hand. When his eyes open, he sees himself with a fresh clarity: kiss-bitten lips, cum smeared on his skin, his cock already mostly soft. A mess. ]
Oh ...
[ Even Quentin's thumb on his lip is almost too much to feel at the moment. Still, Matt cherishes the sparks of his touch. His lips part obediently around the tip of Quentin's finger; he tastes. His tongue working against the pad of Quentin's finger, cleaning off every drop of salty spend. It feels good, comforting almost, to take him in this way while he's still inside him. Idly, Matt imagines spending the whole afternoon this way: Quentin's cock buried deep, as he lets Matt suck on his fingers or on--anything, really. He'd take anything. ]
Mm ... good. [ Good as in the taste. Good, as in good thing you like watching me like this, because: ] You feel too good to move.
[ Matt's spine stretches again, this time with a bit more purpose. His eyes are back on the mirror, tracking the curve he can sketch with his body. Watching Quentin's face. ]
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Oh ...
[ Even Quentin's thumb on his lip is almost too much to feel at the moment. Still, Matt cherishes the sparks of his touch. His lips part obediently around the tip of Quentin's finger; he tastes. His tongue working against the pad of Quentin's finger, cleaning off every drop of salty spend. It feels good, comforting almost, to take him in this way while he's still inside him. Idly, Matt imagines spending the whole afternoon this way: Quentin's cock buried deep, as he lets Matt suck on his fingers or on--anything, really. He'd take anything. ]
Mm ... good. [ Good as in the taste. Good, as in good thing you like watching me like this, because: ] You feel too good to move.
[ Matt's spine stretches again, this time with a bit more purpose. His eyes are back on the mirror, tracking the curve he can sketch with his body. Watching Quentin's face. ]